Underdogs, Community, and FREE (in)RL :: How to do life better...together!!

My great-grandmother had a saying she used to say, "Nitwits and N*&%* always like me."

It was a different time back then, and while today we might say black or people of color, her heart was in the right place. Truly. Because basically, the underdogs of society (at that time) were always drawn to her. The same could be said of my mother and her sisters, and now of my sister and I as well as many of our cousins. I'd like to think that just as freckles, boisterous laughter, being-the-loudest-cheerleaders-in-the-stands as well as strong-willed and stubborn women is obvious in all of us, so is the penchant for compassion for the least of these.

The same could be said of The Bailey family......you know.....on It's a Wonderful Life.

George's, our main character's, father ran the Building and Loan in Bedford Falls. Peter Bailey was, admittedly, not a very good business man. He was not even able to save enough money to send his two sons, George and Harry, to college. So, Henry Potter, the villian of our story, and the man who basically ran the whole town EXCEPT for the Building & Loan was calling Peter Bailey "a failure" and "a starry-eyed dreamer" before he was barely cold in his grave.

George just lost it! He knew his father's weaknesses, but he also knew his strengths.

"He didn't save enough money to send Harry to school, let alone me. But he did help a few people get out of your slums, Mr. Potter. And what's wrong with that?  Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about...they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so...."

George went on to become the man his father was and MORE. In spite of his own lofty dreams, he stayed in Bedford Falls, got married, had a family, and helped more and more families get out of the "projects" and own their own place. George was even known to GIVE money away to friends in need, even when he did not have it.

I feel so challenged by the Bailey family, and even by the heritage in my own family. I wonder if I can look at all of humanity and be so generous, not just with money, but with my heart, my time, my life??Can I REALLY love not only with those who "appear to be the underdogs" but also with those who cover it well, who push people away, who are not easy to love??

I am working on that.
Or I should say, HE is working on me.
And being in community, being sharpened by others definitely helps me with that.

I have learned a lot about community in the past two years. I have learned that it comes where you least expect it and sometimes you must embrace the community you are given.

The place...and people...that have challenged my thinking about community the most lately are the beautiful women over at (in)courage. Not only did they start online community groups called (in)courager groups, but they also held a conference called (in)RL meaning (in) REAL LIFE where women across the globe, literally tuned in together in real life meet ups with women in their home towns. This is taking in one mind and one accord to a WHOLE new level!

Well guess what? You can be a part of (in)RL 2013 this year FOR FREE!!  Yay! Just click over here for more details! Please check it out! You won't be sorry! I promise! Oh...and did I mention, that you get some FREE gifts if you sign up TODAY! WaHOO!! Even more loveliness, right??

"Think of it as a FREE girl’s weekend away that doesn’t require packing or plane tickets, where women can kick off any expectation of perfect, set aside their fears, their shyness, their worry that they’re not good enough, and find some of Jesus’ words of rest woven into every video shared."

(If you are reading in an e-mail or RSS fee, please click here to see the (in)RL trailer.)

  


My ALL-TIME favorite Christmas movie hands-down is It's a Wonderful Life. Jimmy Stewart's rendition of George Bailey and the subsequent characters his life impacts tug at my heart strings every time. I am always reminded what a powerful force each of us can be in the lives of others.

So every Monday in 2013, I am sharing from Bob Welch's book, 52 Little Lessons from It's a Wonderful Life, in a short, encouraging post, a new principle to focus on and be encouraged by for that week. Hopefully you {and I!} will both be inspired that it REALLY is a wonderful life as our faith in God and how we live that out is challenged.

Moving Back Towards Community

This past weekend, we took a road trip.
To see one of our spiritual sons.
To have some down time with an old youth group friend and his wife that we truly call "couple friends," which is no small feat when you are married to an opposite.
And finally to fellowship at the church of my old campus pastor at my college alma mater.

I haven't seen Pastors Bill and Lisa Shuler in more than seven years, so as he took the stage, I let out a little squeal and happy clap as I reached for my journal prepared to capture every morsel of wisdom that he ALWAYS, without fail, oozes.

And as he opens his mouth and begins to share the words God has place on His heart, the theme become quickly clear :: community.

My heart did a little flip flop as I thought,

"Oh man! That word, this challenge, the gentle nudge forward...it is coming from every direction -- personal tug from the Holy Spirit, the blogosphere, and now an out-of-town church visit."

The last few years have been spent in a mode of aftershock due to trauma after trauma personally, physically, mentally, emotionally. Living in a culture not my own, experiencing multiple incidences of theft within a one-to-two year period, chronic pain increasingly debilitating my body, infertility holding the dream of multiplying our family at bay, and finally an earthquake in my childhood home of Haiti, cutting off life-and-death news of my parents for over seventeen hours -- all had me walking dazed and confused in my own skin.

In that shell-shocked season, I felt so very isolated from community by life circumstances, personal seclusion, and harsh judgments.

Two years ago, stepping away on an indefinite sabbatical from full time pastoral ministry found me in need of a hiding place for awhile. My emotions have run the gamut, from guilt to anger, from hurt to relief, from rejection to jealousy, from pride to disdain, and on and on and on.

With my heart functioning as one, BIG, raw, exposed nerve, connecting was off the table. For awhile. And as an extrovert, who thrives on relationships, this was HARD. But, drowning in pain from misunderstandings and lack of grace, I felt gun-shy to move forward, to open back up again.

Until now.

So with the past, ever in my consciousness, I felt the Lord gently lifting and urging me in the direction of community again as Pastor Shuler's words rang through the auditorium...

"When meaningful relationships are not present and active in our lives, we lose affirmation....and correction...because we need that too."

What am I missing by hiding behind the curtain?
How can I move forward from the hurts of the past?

Pastor Shuler shares three basic steps from the life of Jesus as told by counselor and relationship expert, Henry Nouwen:

1) Jesus began with solitude -- He connected with God
2) Jesus THEN enters community -- He formed a small group of disciples
3) Jesus finally steps forward to minister -- He reached out to the world around Him.

The more I connect with the Father, the more I can let go of the hurts of the past and risk opening up now and in the future and maybe even to be understood. I thought this was just a Lindsey-obsession, this desire to be understood, but come to find out it is THE #1 characteristic longed for in relationship -- to be understood and accepted.

And the more we open up ourselves and accept others, the more that same understanding and openness is returned back to us.

Yeah. I know. It is really simple.
But really it is not.
Not without Jesus.
Not without the cross.

This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins. Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us. ~I John 4:10-12

So I am over here, taking tentative steps BACK into community and learning how to lean on Jesus in that endeavor more and more each day.

How do you move towards 

RE-connectiong and forgiveness 

in relationships in your life?

Linking up with:

I Wish It Was Different :: A Story of Fragmented Grace

I slice the bread in half, scooping up a heaping serving of tuna salad. I pull out one of the new plastic plates, recently purchased for potential foster kids to use instead of the heavy ceramic ones we got on our wedding day.

I mix the macaroni and cheese, and ladle a spoonful on the 1/4 segment of the pre-separated plate.

As a last minute addition, I add a small portion of reheated leftover veggie pasta to add a tiny bit of greens to her meal.

Suddenly, my mind is catapulted back in time.

I am 5. My cousin, Wendy, is almost 6. She is my very best friend. It is summer and life is filled with sunsuits, one foot "baby" pools, and fighting over Barbie dolls. My granny dishes out chicken noodle soup or maybe it was Chef Boyardee into our waiting bowls as we sit at the table hungry from our morning of play.

Back in this moment, my granny sits on my couch, sleep holding her captive more and more each day with the necessity of medications to function in the world around her.

I sigh and smile all at the same time.

Today.
I am the grown up.
She is the child.

I am the one now worried about what she will eat and happy that I have crustless sandwich rounds because she always cut off the crust when we were kids and now will eat it no other way.

I place the potluck variety on a tray and pour out half a glass of milk and carry it to where she snoozes, touching her arm to wake her to eat this simple fare that she is really not hungry for anyway.

She smiles at me with thanks and contentment and slowly makes her way through the various presentations on the plate.

It's hard.
This change.
For all of the obvious reasons.
The ones that are a part of the harsh reality of the circle of life.

But harder still for a different reason.

I do not see my grandmother often.
She lives in my town.
In fact, all four of my biological grandparents still do.
And only when my parents are home from Haiti do I truly spend consistent time with them.

I often feel guilty about that.
Some people my age have never even met their grandparents or lost them as children or teenagers.
My husband is one of them.

I grew up away from my extended family most of the year, spending 3 months in the summer and 3 weeks at Christmas with those who share bloodlines and last names.  The reality of my world was not truly on their radar.  And as a child and teenager, I made it work.  I loved to come to my USA home, and I did not really want to think about being the missionary kid during my "vacation" away, so I entered the world before me easily, with open arms.

When I turned 18, I went to college in Oklahoma.
The first in both sides of my family to attend in more than twenty-five years.
And there I changed even more.
My ways of thinking were challenged. My life-long mindsets were shattered.
My horizons were broadened, and my world view was blown wide open.

So, when I moved back full-time, year-round to the place of my parents' birth, where I had always dreamed of living, I really did not fit in that well. Even with my family.

Oh I was loved.
Please do not get me wrong.
But to a girl who values being understood above almost every other thing, a sad reality replaced my optimistic youth.

Things would never be the same again.

I learned through missteps and over-sharing that calculating my thoughts and viewpoints was kinder and safer in the long run. And eventually a semi-ordinary routine came into existence.

Until....

Seven years later, I went to live in Africa for 3 years....and came home feeling even more like a foreigner inside of my own skin than ever before, unable to even remember who I used to be in their eyes yet certain I would never be that girl again.

These days, I teeter totter back and forth between connection and isolation, conformity and independence, embracing and pushing away.

I wish it was different.
I wish I could be the one they need me to be.
I wish I was not so altered by life and circumstances and living away.
I wish I knew how to bridge the ever-widening gap.
I wish I felt connected to them.
I wish they had let their guards down years ago to let me know them.
I wish I could set it all aside and just love them like Jesus.

So for today, I love the only way I know how.
From my own brokenness.
Reaching through the insecurities and generational resistance
And offer my hard-fought gift of grace.
Because I need it too.
Because I do not have the answers.
Because He loves better than I can.

So I smile at my Granny and tell her that she ate so well as I clean off the plate where those leftover vegetables still remain.

And when she leaves my house today, she tells me three times, "I had such a nice time with you today."

With a hug and a shake of my head, I say, "Me too,"
as I thank God
for that merciful blessing
sent back to me
fusing together
a few more fragments
inside my wanting soul.




Joining in community with.....

The Community I Did Not See Coming

She listens to my heartbreaking rants on the phone about the agony of hard choices in the foster care journey. When do I leap? How deep do I go? Is this feeling fear or the Holy Spirit slipping in that lack of peace to remind me He has a different plan. She reminds me that wisdom and faith might not always wear the same clothes, but work together hand-in-hand. She breathes confidence into my wary soul.

She is my community.

She just had a baby 6 weeks ago. It's her second one and juggling the needs of both an infant and a toddler fight against her normal calm-and-collected sensibilities, yet she grabs precious moments to connect me to her day, invite me into her feelings of chaos and home, and let me know that she misses me.

She is my community.

She blogs. She sews. She mothers 3 kids, 2 of which are twins. She is an entrepreneur. She is filled with never-ending creative ideas. She has energy to be rivaled. She tackles every project with gusto and  vigor, even losing enough weight to fit into her high school prom dress. AND SHE HAS TWINS.  On paper we are so different, but our spirits connect in a language hard to explain. "...I'd love to sit with you in church today..." she writes me late in the wee smas knowing that in the die-hard night owl nature that we share, I'd be awake too.

She is my community.

She shares my personality type. That one champions my love for foster care. Another pulls out and returns back to me words that clears my chaotic soul. They are a safe place for this aspiring artist to breathe.

This is community.

It is not perfect. There is no physical gathering together every day or every week. Most do not know each other by name.

As an extrovert, I miss the parties, the gatherings, the celebrations. But as a wounded soldier, my soul has craved time to heal from the hurts and brokenness that life has wrought. I walk a tightrope of delicate balance between the two, simply hiding from the burning desire to be wanted, to be loved, to be accepted, and most of all, to be understood.

And then, when I take a second to just breathe in His grace, to ponder the healing over the last two years, I see community.

I see it in her laugh.
It jumps off the screen through her generosity.
I feel it in the genuine words wrapping my heart with their warmth.
It bleeds red and precious, like His blood, seeping into the cracks and crannies of this bruised vessel.

I breathe in grace.
I inhale mercy.
I exhale doubts and fears and insecurities and hurts lodged deep.

All because of one.
One with skin on.
One with Savior-love.
One with arms extended, walls down
Being the hands of Jesus to this weary soldier.

In the emptiness, I have found community.
And my cup runneth over.